


Sun, Sand and Sambuca

by JulietsEmoPhase



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Beach Sex, Drinking, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Meet-Cute, Shameless Smut, Smut, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 05:12:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3838405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulietsEmoPhase/pseuds/JulietsEmoPhase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holiday romance where Harry and Draco are best men for their respective stag dos, but still want to find time to sneak a moment for themselves.</p><p>Muggle AU Drarry. E for smut. Birthday Present!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sun, Sand and Sambuca

**Author's Note:**

> This is a lovely little present for April (who goes by expectopatronurm on Tumblr) and also Yinshi (waysofmalfoy) who’s birthday was missed off the Drarry Birthday Master List xxx I hope you guys like this! 
> 
> So – basically the weather here in the UK has been gorgeous the last week or so, making me long for a sunny European get away. That also made me thing of partying into the small hours of the morning with your mates, and naturally I wanted to Drarry that up! So here is a little holiday romance one-shot for you to brighten up your day.
> 
> In case you’re not aware, this story is set on the Canary Island of Tenerife, which is a perfectly nice place to go on holiday, but is also popular for stag and hen dos, as well as general 18-30 group tours which means it can get loud and messy in certain bars etc. Us Brits can give ourselves a bad reputation quite easily in places like this lol. 
> 
> Rated E for some language and of course, sex on the beach ;-) Also, there is a small amount of homophobic abuse that isn’t too drastic, but some people might find unpleasant. Mostly though, this is just a fun little fic which I hope you enjoy!
> 
> xJx

Sun, Sand And Sambuca

 

   _“What?”_ Harry yelled at the girl over the bar, trying to be heard over the music.  Bodies were jostling all around him as he leant against the sticky counter, straining his ears as the girl grinned. 

   _“I said!”_ she shouted, unfazed by the thumping bass line.  _“Cash or card!”_

   Harry looked back at his gaggle of mates, squinting in the spinning, flashing lights as they threw themselves about the dance floor.  The air-con wasn’t great in the underground bar they’d found themselves after the last placed kicked them out after midnight, and the guys were basically a slippery, sweating throng of limbs and pumping fists. 

   He looked back at the sea of drinks he’d ordered up before him, and tried not to groan.  He’d get charged for using his card abroad, but he doubted he had enough cash to cover the amount of alcohol he was about to unleash on Seamus’ stag do. 

   Reluctantly, he pulled his card from his wallet, and the bartender yanked the reader out from the wall to rob him of his money.  He debated necking one of the shots he’d lined up on the tray to numb the pain, but cracked open a plastic bottle of water instead.  As the responsible one in the party, he realised he needed a break to rehydrate if they had any hope of reaching it back to their hotel alive. 

   The girl bopped to the music as she waited for the machine to connect.  She was petite with a multitude of piercings and tattoos, clad in ripped denim shorts and a t-shirt that read _“Nobody knows I’m a lesbian”_ , which Harry thought was quite funny considering the kind of bar she worked in.  Her blonde hair was streaked with lime highlights and tied up in two messy buns either side of her head. 

   She caught his eye and winked, not bothered that the card machine was taking an age to connect, taking other peoples’ orders that she barked in Spanish to the two cute local boys working beside her.  Harry watched as they showed off with the cocktail shakers, throwing them up and catching them behind their backs before pouring the brightly coloured liquids into various shaped glasses adorned with fruit and little umbrellas. 

   Harry glanced over his shoulder again, keeping an eye on Seamus and the others singing their hearts out to some nineties club classic that he’d never learnt the name of.  When he turned back, the bargirl was holding his card up in his face, along with a receipt with far too many numbers on.

   He grinned apologetically at her as he took it back, not bothering to try and talk, just tucking the card back in his pocket, and preparing to cart his drinks off to the half a dozen men drunkenly flinging themselves about with whistles round their necks.  He wasn’t quite sure why Seamus had been so keen on recapturing their teenage years with his main stag night out, but seeing as he was the groom-to-be Harry had been obliged to listen to his wishes.  Even if those wishes consisted of their fourth round of sambuca shots.

   He was going to pretend he’d already done his at the bar – he’d even nabbed an empty glass off the cute lesbian to prove it.

   He hefted up the tray, giving the people behind him enough time to shift out of his way, and started to edge back towards his group.  He was concentrating on his own motions so hard, he didn’t react quick enough when the hot blond guy spun around and crashed straight into him, upsetting almost half the glasses on the tray and toppling a couple of drinks over completely.  All over Harry.

   _“Fuck!”_ howled the blond in dismay, genuinely mortified when he realised what he’d done, shooting his hands out to grab some of the other drinks threatening to go.  “Oh mate I’m so sorry!”

   Harry had frozen in shock from the cold and sticky surprise now seeping through his shirt and jeans, but when he looked up to assure the guy it was just an accident and not to worry, he froze all over again.  He had the most beautiful eyes Harry had ever seen.  A dazzling silvery grey, under golden lashes and above sharp, high cheekbones.  Harry felt his stomach drop.

   “It’s-” he stuttered stupidly.  “It’s okay, really.”

   Finally, his best mate Ron shoved his way through the crowd to his rescue, and looked down at the spilled drinks with a grimace.  “What happened?” he called over the music.

   “It’s my fault!” bemoaned the blond stranger, taking the tray out of Harry’s hands and passing it to Ron.  “You take the survivors, I’ll re-buy the collateral damage for your boyfriend.”

   Ron blinked under the swirls of pink and yellow disco lights.  “Err…” he said.

   Harry grinned at him and nodded back to the group.  “You hand them out, I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, giving the redhead an escape which he gratefully took.  Harry then chuckled at the stranger as they started to push back towards the bar.  “Not my boyfriend,” he shouted in his ear.

   “What?” the blond shouted back.

   _“The ginger, he’s not my boyfriend,”_ Harry repeated louder and closer.  _“He’s our token straight, God love him!”_

   The blond grinned, flashing a perfect set of teeth.  He was a little taller than Harry, and from the way his damp t-shirt clung to his chest, he was in very good shape.  “He’s brave,” he told Harry.

   “Stag do,” Harry explained, pointing back to the others.  “He didn’t have much of a choice.  He’s the other husband’s best man, so we’ll have to do it all again next week.”  Harry was secretly hoping Dean’s Brighton weekend would be slightly more subdued than Seamus’ Tenerife extravaganza had been so far, but that’s what you got dealing with a loud, Irish queen he supposed. 

   “You the best man for this one then?” the blond asked, and Harry nodded.  They were still at least a row or two away from getting back to the bar, but he wasn’t exactly protesting at being pressed up against his new friend.  The guy jerked his thumb over his shoulder.  “Me too,” he cried.  “See that lanky bastard who thinks he’s Beyoncé?”  Harry peered through the crowd and spotted a tall black guy who was indeed lip-syncing every word to _‘Bootylicious’_ like he was Bey herself.  Harry laughed and the blond laughed with him.

   “It’s fun being the responsible one,” Harry said sagely, although claiming to be the soberest one of his mates wasn’t exactly the same as being responsible.  He brushed up ‘accidently’ again against the blond as the press of people shifted. 

   “I am really sorry about knocking your drinks over,” said the guy apologetically, and pulled a very cute pout of remorse that Harry had to fight to kiss right off his face.  “I’ll buy you a whole round, if you can remember the order?”

   Harry shook his head as they finally got close enough to squeeze back up to the counter.  “Honestly it’s fine, don’t worry,” but the guy wouldn’t take no for an answer.

   “I’m Draco by the way,” he said, sticking out a hand after they had given the shirtless bartender their rather long order. 

   Harry wasn’t sure he’d heard right.  “What?” he shouted as they shook hands, enjoying the opportunity to get close to his ear, which was near his pale neck that looked ever-so lickable. 

   The blond laughed ruefully.  _“Draco!”_ he shouted again and shrugged with mild embarrassment.  “It’s a star constellation.” 

   “I like it,” Harry assured him as their drinks started appearing one by one in front of them.  “It’s better than Harry – do you know how many Harrys there are in the world?  I’ve snogged at least two, and there’s nothing weirder than moaning your own name while someone tries to get your pants off!”

   Draco was laughing properly now, and Harry felt warmth practically glowing from his groin.  He was even more beautiful when he laughed.

   “So which one’s your boyfriend if it’s not the ginger,” Draco said, handing over an impressive wodge of cash to the guy who’d finally finished making all their drinks.  Rather startlingly, this time the shots of Sambuca had been lit on fire.  Harry gulped. 

   “None of them,” he said, giving Draco a sly look.  “What makes you so sure I’m taken?”

   Draco picked up one of the trays (they’d needed two this time) and gave him an equally sly look back.  “Surely you’re not single?” he said, weaving back through the throng. 

   Harry felt oddly proud at the compliment.  “Sadly yes,” he said with a dramatic roll of the eyes.

   Draco glanced over his shoulder at him, eyebrows raised, then turned again to watch where he was going least he end up in the same predicament as Harry.

   Their two groups of friends weren’t dancing all that far away from each other, so gravitated towards the two men to fish out their various drinks orders.  Draco’s stag, the black guy named Blaise, was utterly plastered and being propped up by a smaller Eurasian guy called Theo, and a black haired girl called Pansy.  They joined Harry’s lot enthusiastically, all extinguishing then shooting down the fresh sambuca that Harry managed to get through without throwing up.  Seamus was jumping around to Urban Cookie Collective like a lunatic, but Harry was able to at least tell Draco his and Ron’s names, as well as Neville, Michael and Terry as they joined back in dancing, new drinks in hand.

   “Thanks for the round,” Harry told him as they found somewhere to discard they empty trays.

   But Draco shook his head.  “It was the least I could do,” he said, touching Harry’s wet shirt with his fingertips, sending goose bumps all over his flesh.  “Come on,” he said with a grin, and tugged on Harry’s hand.  “Let’s dance.” 

   Draco was mesmerising.  The way he moved his hips was something reminiscent of a snake being charmed, and Harry was soon drawn into his sphere of movement.  They were body rolling together, and Harry’s breath was shallow as they gyrated perfectly in time, eyes catching as they smiled and bit their lips.  It was like everyone else dropped away; they could have been in bed as far as Harry was concerned.

   Except, when he leant in a little closer, hoping to snag that elusive first kiss, the song changed and Draco spun away, grabbing Blaise as they both bellowed in recognition and delight.  Harry stood abandoned for a brief moment, before deciding two could play that game (as the song now blaring so rightly suggested), and found a new partner of his own in Seamus’ uni mate Terry.  He was more handsome than pretty like Draco, but still very appealing with his chocolatey brown eyes and mop of sandy blond hair.  He grinned at Harry and skimmed his fingers up Harry’s chest.  “You’re doing a great job,” he shouted over the music in his strong Leeds accent.  “Seamus looks happy.”

   And he did, Harry noted, as the groom-to-be pulled Blaise away from Draco, yelling about how great it was to be getting married.  Harry saw an opportunity and snuck his fingers through Draco’s, pulling him back towards him and Terry.  “Draco’s the other best man,” Harry told Terry who rose his drink sloppily in cheers.

   “To the bestest of men!” he  cried.

   The night went on, creeping closer to morning, and the two stag parties continued writhing in the somewhat dive of a bar until, quite suddenly, Seamus sat down on one of the couches in the corner, and slumped in a drunken stupor.  Harry still hadn’t been able to tie Draco down for a kiss, but his loyalty to his friend overrode that and he announced it was time to go home.

   Curiously, Draco’s lot also took that as their cue to leave, and within ten minutes they were all outside in the cool night air stumbling along the pavement, trying to shush Blaise and Seamus from noisily singing _‘We Found Love’_ whilst arm in arm. 

   Theo and Pansy were also linked in order to stay upright, and wavered in front of Harry as he rubbed his hand through his thick black hair to try and unstuck it from his head.  His glasses had also fogged up, which Pansy found hilarious.  “We’re all at the same hotel, you know?” Theo called to the group at large, and Neville nodded enthusiastically, making Harry think they’d already worked this out.  He glanced at Draco, nerves in his belly sloshing alongside the sambuca.  He’d seemed so keen, but after deftly side-stepping several of Harry’s attempted to actually snog him, he’d given up.

   _“El Marinero Feliz?”_ he checked, and the blond nodded. 

   “I guess not many other places were keen on letting a bunch of homos run riot in their rooms,” he joked, but the idea of his bedroom being so close to Harry’s made his stomach loop.  He was being desperate, he needed to snap out of this and play it cool – that was probably why Draco wasn’t interested, nobody wanted a needy shag.

   “Oi!” shouted Pansy over her shoulder, flicking her black hair primly.  “I’m not a homo thank you very much.”

   “Or me,” Ron lamented.  He’d been hit on by a stunning Greek guy before they left, and Harry suspected if he hadn’t been happily married to Hermione with a baby on the way, he might have actually given it a shot.  

   “We,” said Seamus emphatically, pointing around the group as they shuffled their way along the pathway past all the closed restaurants.  “Are _excellent_ homos.”

   “Homos with the mostos!” cheered Michael, swigging the vodka and coke he’d managed to sneak out of the bar. 

   They weren’t the only ones on the street by far, but they were the biggest group and were attracting a few stares that Harry was still sober enough to notice.  “Come on,” he ushered the group on wearily, not wanting to cause any trouble.  A couple of white-boy skin-heads in particular caught his eye, dressed in polo shirts, jeans and trainers with thick gold chains around their necks.  Harry could practically smell the hostility rolling off them, and kept shepherding his friends new and old along with gentle determination. 

   “Where’s my room key?” moaned Terry, patting down his pockets before Michael waved two plastic cards in his face.

   “Honestly, I can’t take you anywhere,” he sighed, plonking his now empty glass on a low wall running alongside a tapas bar that still had music pumping from it and more revellers partying beyond the doors.  Blaise tried to make a detour inside, but Draco steered him deftly away.

   “Piggy back!” Theo announced, and launched himself at the taller Neville who only just caught his legs before the arms slung around his neck choked him.  “Take me home pony!”

   Neville grunted and heaved Blaise’s friend higher into a more secure position.  “Make your mind up,” he groused.  “Am I a pig or a horse?”

   Pansy found this so hysterical Draco had to hoist her off the ground to keep her walking.  Harry didn’t join in with any of this merriment though, too preoccupied as Seamus got very handsy with Blaise.

   “You,” he said thickly, prodding the black guy’s chest.  “Are going to make a wonderful husband.”

   “No _you_ are,” said Blaise firmly, and Seamus blinked back tears, moving his hand up to stroke the other guy’s face. 

   “We’re such _lovely_ husbands,” he sang to the night. 

   Harry tried gently to pull them apart; it wouldn’t be the first time Seamus got overly sentimental and kissed someone he wasn’t supposed to, but seeing as this was his stag do he really didn’t fancy having to explain that to Dean once they got home.  

   “Oh for _fuck’s_ sake,” a well spoken voice snarled in front of them, and Harry stopped automatically, a cold sensation rinsing through him.

   A gaggle of men about their age in expensive looking shirts and loafers had halted, cross-armed in front of their procession down the pavement.  The one that had spoken had rich brown hair and a watch on his wrist that probably cost what Harry paid monthly in rent.  He was in front of the others and had an air of authority about him.

   “’Scuse me,” Harry mumbled as Blaise and Seamus continued to cling onto each other, gaping at the guys now in their way.

   But they didn’t move, in fact, Mr Fancy Watch stepped closer.  “You fucking perverts,” he spat.  “No one wants to see a bunch of woofters mauling each other like rabid dogs.  Have some fucking respect.”

   “For who, you?” Draco spat back, suddenly by Harry’s side.  “Sorry, I don’t have time for inbred, elitist twats.”

   “Come on,” Harry tried to urge his friends.  “Let’s just go, no one needs to get hurt.”

   “Fucking pussies,” the guy yelled, getting a chorus of jeers from his half a dozen or so mates.  Harry knew there was less of them than in his group, but his group were thoroughly wasted and not spoiling for a fight.  These lot were literally rolling up their sleeves.  “How about we show them what real men look like lads, hey?”

   “Real men!” screeched Pansy, lurching for him and only just getting snagged back by Neville in time.  “You think because Daddy paid for everything that makes you a man, makes you better than us?”

   “Aw,” cried the watch guy.  “They’ve got a little Fag Hag, how sweet!”

   One of the other preppy boys grabbed his crotch and jigged it at Pansy.  “Want to see some proper cock darling?” he crowed. 

   Ron had materialised by Harry’s other shoulder, and it felt like the two of them and Draco were in the middle of two sides of a brawl about to get very messy indeed.  “Enough,” Harry barked.  “We’re not here to fight, we’re going home, okay?”

   But the watch guy stepped forward and shoved his chest.  _“Fucking queer boy,”_ he sneered. 

   Harry shoved back, seeing red as more people shouted out and Ron pulled him back.  Draco jumped in front of him and squared up to the guy, and looked ready to pounce, but a new voice rang out.

   “The fuck is this shite now?” a Glaswegian twang rang out, and real fear pooled through Harry’s guts as the couple of skin-heads pushed their way to the middle of the group.  They could be in _serious_ trouble now.

   Fancy Watch smirked.  “Just a few poofs we’re sorting out,” he grinned, and Harry fought the urge to launch himself at him again.

   But the Scottish guy jabbed a thick finger in Mr Watch’s face.  “The fuck right do you’s have ta use tha’ sorta language?”

   It took Harry a moment to decipher the thick brogue before he understood what the man had just said.  Was he sticking up for Harry and his friends?

   Watch guy frowned.  “This isn’t any of your business,” he said.  “They were asking for it.”

   “How!” shouted Harry enraged.  He couldn’t say this was the first time he’d been abused on the street, but he was livid it was upsetting his friend’s big night out.

   The watch guy tried to loom over Harry, but the skin-heads were in the way.  “You make me _sick_ you lot, waving your dicks in everyone’s faces in a pathetic attempt to be accepted.  Causing a scene to show everyone how _normal_ you are!”

   “Seems ta me, friend,” the Glaswegian said calmly as his mate bristled beside him.  “You’re tha only one makin’ a scene.”

   A blast of Spanish shouting rang out over their heads, and Harry was extremely relieved to see four or five local police officers marching through the people standing around watching the altercation.  Harry couldn’t understand what they were saying until they switched to English.  “Enough, stop this now,” one of them snapped, waving his hands and pushing the two groups apart.

   Harry didn’t need telling twice, and quickly grabbed Seamus, pulling him around the watch guy and his friends as the others followed, his heart pounding in his chest.  Mr Watch glared at him, but settled for flipping him off and stalking away rather than having to deal with the police.

   Pansy unabashedly hugged the Scottish guy and his friend who had come to their aid, and laughed as she kissed them both on their cheeks.  “You guys rock!” she cried, skipping to catch up with Harry and the others.

   Harry had to admit she was right.  Seamus had seen enough through his drunken fog that he was now crying about the fight, apologising incoherently while Harry tried to sooth him.  He swallowed down a lump of anger and hurt in his throat.  He _hated_ that people felt they had to right to talk to him like that, but he hated more that he couldn’t stop it, couldn’t protect his friends from it.  He probably would have gotten violent if those Scots hadn’t have stepped in, and he made mental note not to judge people based on their appearances ever again. 

   At least, he thought to himself, it didn’t come to that.  At least he had Ron by his side as always, and even Draco which just confused him.  The blond had given him so many signals, but ducked away anytime Harry had got too close in the bar. 

   He decided not to worry about it now, Seamus was his priority right then.  It was a big relief to get back to the hotel, and Harry wasted no time hauling a semi-conscious Seamus up to the room they were sharing and dropping into his bed, facing sideways with a empty bin by his bed as well as a glass of water.  It was only when he went back out to make sure Ron and the others were okay in their rooms, did he realise that they’d lost Draco and his party.

   He sighed, disappointed, but figured after all that drama maybe it was for the best.  They might still see each other at breakfast after all, there was still hope.

   He’d just wanted a kiss, he thought morosely as he brushed his teeth.  He’d had a few holiday romances before, he wasn’t expecting much.  Alright, perhaps a shag, but he would have settled for a decent snog.  Draco looked like he knew what to do with those pale, heart shaped lips.

   Harry went to plug in his phone to charge, when he realised he had a text message.  That was odd, they’d all agreed to avoid texting and stick to web-based messengers whilst they were on the hotel wifi.  Maybe it was someone from home who’d forgotten he was away.

   He unlocked the screen, and his heart jolted in his chest.  The texter was labelled as _‘Draco’._   He quickly opened the message: _When you can escape, meet me outside._

   When.  Not if, when, cheeky sod.  And how had he managed to not only get Harry’s phone off him, but also unlock it in order to program in his number?  _Maybe he was interested after all_ , Harry could help but hope as he checked on Seamus one last time and slipped back out into the corridor, jogging down the stairs and heading for the lobby.  Draco was leaning against the low wall outside, and smiled at Harry as he pushed out the front door of his hotel.

   “Well,” he said, his voice a little husky.  “That was fun.”

   Harry came and stood in front of him, slipping his hands into his pockets.  “Until we almost got bottled,” Harry admitted.  “Yeah, it was pretty fun actually.”

   Draco looked Harry over.  “Are you okay?” he asked seriously.  “He didn’t hurt you did he?”

   Harry barked out a loud laugh, probably a result of the dissipating adrenaline in his system.  “Nah, I’m fine,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.  “I just…hate it, you know.  We weren’t bothering anyone.”

   Draco looked sympathetic.  “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt, you worried me, squaring up to that tosser like that.”

   “You’re one to talk,” Harry said, nudging him with his elbow.  “Took you two seconds to jump in front of me.”

   Draco rolled his eyes.  “Well I couldn’t have you taking all the credit in front of my friends now, could I?”  He joked, but then his face became more serious again.  “I’m glad you’re alright, I just wanted to check.”

   Harry wanted to ask if that’s why he’d stolen his phone to give him his number, but he felt that would maybe spoil the magic by acknowledging it, so stayed quiet.

   Draco licked his lips, his eyes dancing in the streetlight.  “Thought maybe I’d walk down to the beach, if you wanted to join me?”

   Harry’s heart skipped a beat, but he tried to shrug it off.  “Sure,” he said casually.  “I’m still pretty buzzed.”

   Draco scoffed as they began walking the short route between hotels that would lead them to the beach.  “Not drunk enough to pass out after almost being hospitalised like the rest?”

   “No,” Harry countered.  “But drunk enough to go wandering off on a midnight stroll with a stranger.”  He arched an eyebrow at Draco, who gave him a wolfish smile back. 

   “Surely we’re not strangers now?” he asked as they strolled.  “We got our grooms home in one piece, that counts as some sort of bonding, right?”

   Harry was sticking to his resolve to play it cool.  “I don’t know,” he said, almost serious.  “It don’t think it counts until I get him back to London, there’s still plenty of opportunities for him to find trouble yet.”

   “You’re from London too?” Draco asked surprised, and Harry felt a thrill that his not-so-subtle hint had worked. 

   “Most of us,” he said, delighted.  “I am at least.”  His mind was already running away with him as the two of them talked about where exactly they were from, carrying on their walk until they reached the edge of the beach.  It became less of a holiday romance if you lived and worked within half an hour of each other back home. 

   They stopped as the concrete turned to sand, looking out over the horizon.  It was actually much later than Harry though, or earlier depending on what way you looked at it.  Where the sky kissed the sea, a blur of purples and reds were melting into the dark, starry sky.  Harry bit his lip, suddenly nervous.  It was beautiful and Draco was beautiful, and here they were standing together in the quietness that seemed deafening compared to the onslaught of the bar’s sound system not an hour earlier.  Only the lapping of the waves broke through the silence, and he snuck a look at Draco.

   His heart lurched as he realised Draco was already looking at him, and snapped his gaze back down, hearing Draco snigger.  “Come on,” he said, and began yanking his shoes and socks off.

   Harry didn’t question, just followed suit, shoving his socks into his trainers and rolling up his jeans.  Draco had already stepped onto the sand, so Harry did likewise, feeling it cool and soft between his toes.  Fishing boats bobbed in the distance, and Harry could taste the salt in the air as they got closer and closer to the waves.

   Draco suddenly chucked his shoes to the ground and hopped the last few strides into the surf, whooping like a child as he splashed into the gentle waves.  “Come on Harry!” he cried, grinning wickedly, kicking up water.  “Let’s wash some of that sambuca off you!”

   Harry’s stomach dipped, but he wouldn’t let any doubt show on his face.  Instead he grabbed Draco’s shoes and dropped both pairs a safe distance from the lapping water, before slowly walking over.

   The sea felt delicious on his skin, and he bent down to pull his jeans up higher so they wouldn’t get wet.  When he stood again, Draco’s face was in front of his own.

   “Finally,” he murmured, and seized either side of Harry’s head, pulling him in to a deep and fervent kiss.  Harry melted immediately, grabbing hungrily for Draco’s white blond hair, loving it was a soft to the touch as it looked, massaging Draco’s tongue with his own as their lips ground down, a moan thrumming up his throat and into their mouths.

   The moment stretched out, until Harry suddenly pulled back.  “What do you mean, _finally?”_ he scolded, feeling dangerously playful.  “I’ve basically been trying to snog you since you tipped my drinks order down me!”  

   Draco dropped his head and looked at Harry like he was his prey.  “Really,” he said, his voice low.  “You wanted our first kiss so be in that sweatbox, surrounded by our wasted mates, slipping in beer, rather than on the beach, all alone with the sunrise?”

   Harry blinked, looked out at the magnificent vista beside them, then back at the man in his arms.  “Oh,” he said.

   “Oh,” Draco repeated smugly, running his fingers against the nape of Harry’s neck and down his back. 

   Harry’s eyes fluttered half shut.  “So, you wanted to kiss me too?” he breathed.

   “Oh god yes,” Draco sighed, before launching back in full force.  “You were all drenched and flustered, right in front of me,” he mumbled between kisses and gasps of air.  “I was planning how to get you that way again for half the night.”

   Harry smiled into his mouth, running his hands down Draco’s back and slipping them over his jeans to grab a handful of tight cheeks.   “Not drenched now though,” he admonished.  “Just feet, doesn’t count.”

   Draco’s hands slipped like lightning to the buttons on Harry’s shirt.  “That can be easily fixed,” Draco rasped, working on popping each button free as Harry finally got his wish and nipped in by Draco’s ear to kiss the pale skin along his jaw line.  In seconds he was bare-chested and Draco was throwing the shirt back up the beach where their shoes were sat.  Next came Harry’s hands under Draco’s t-shirt, peeling it off him to reveal the toned body Harry knew was hiding under there, and he couldn’t seem to touch enough of him.

   Draco pulled away though with a smirk, attacking his own belt and fly to tug his chinos off.  Harry watched him, grin wide on his face before he pulled off his glasses and put them in his pocket, then followed his example.  He hurriedly relieving himself of his jeans, hopping up and down and slinging them back up with the rest of their clothes, hoping neither his hotel key card or glasses had slipped out of his pockets, but also not really caring.

   Draco grabbed his hand, slamming their bodies back together, so much better now there was only boxers in their way.  In a tangled mess of limbs they stumbled further into the cold water, but Harry was burning so hot with desire he hardly even noticed.  The sea swallowed them up until they were chest deep and half floating in each others’ arms. 

   “You’re so beautiful,” he moaned, hand working his way between Draco’s legs, palming his stiff erection through the sodden material of his underwear. 

   “Fuck I want you,” Draco moaned back, outdoing Harry by pushing his fingers under the elastic of his boxers and forcing them down.  Harry was only too happy to help, kicking them free and not caring where they went once he realised Draco had done the same.  They were naked now, in the soft haze of dawn, locked together as the waves caressed their whole bodies. 

   Harry took Draco firmly in his hand as the kiss crashed back together, gasping as Draco did the same, squeezing his cock firmly.  “This is mine now,” he growled possessively, and Harry thought his insides might have turned to liquid and drifted into the sea itself. 

   He smirked though, gliding his hand up and down Draco’s length, loving how it made his breath catch and eyes flutter.  “You have to do a bit more work than that to claim it,” he rumbled, catching Draco’s earlobe and sucking it, grazing his teeth along the soft flesh.  “Show me how much you want it.”

   Draco took him by surprise and shoved him forcefully backwards, towards the beach so Harry was momentarily submerged before he resurfaced, coughing and spluttering in shock.  He scrambled onto his elbows but Draco was already dropping over him, towering down as he straddled Harry’s hips and grabbed him for another fierce kiss.  “There we go,” he said happily.  “Drenched, just like I wanted.”

   Harry wasn’t giving in that easily though, and wrapped his thighs around Draco’s torso, rolling them so Draco was on his back, the water crashing over him and plastering that gorgeous white blond hair to his face.

   He barked out a laugh and swept it back, looking like something out of a swimsuit catalogue, glistening in the dim morning light and locking Harry with a feral gaze.  “I like a fighter,” he growled, arching his hips so they rubbed together, slippery with the salt water and jolting electricity up Harry’s spine. 

   Harry dropped down onto his elbows, scooping Draco up as their bellies flattened together and their cocks slid into an impossibly snug fit, pressing against each other as they both rocked back and forth, faster and faster. What Harry really wanted was to flip Draco over and ease inside him, fill him up and spill his hot cum within him while he screamed his name.  But without a condom or lube he’d just have to make do with what they had.

   _Next time,_ he told himself, very much hoping there would be a next time. 

   He realised though as he pulled back from their kiss and studied Draco’s ecstasy drawn face, he wanted them to be front on like this, he wanted to watch him as he became unravelled, to study his face as they crested their climax as one.  Oh yes, there would definitely be a next time.  “Come for me baby,” he whispered, kissing him lightly then locking their eyes until Draco couldn’t take any more and squeezed them shut.  Harry allowed himself to do the same, losing himself as he shattered into a million pieces, blinding light bursting behind his eyelids. 

   Sometime later, Harry roused from his stupor, wrapped around Draco as the sea cradled them in their sated haze.  Draco kissed him, tenderly, running his hands gently over all the skin he could reach.  “Aren’t you glad I doused you in all that cheap sambuca now?” he asked as the sun crested the waves, breaking the dawn fully over their beach. 

   Harry kissed him back, resting his hand on his wet chest.  “I think I preferred the part where you washed it off again,” he told him happily. 

 

 

 

The End

 

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Spanish Translation:

 

 _“El Marinero Feliz”_ – The Happy Sailor

 

xxx

 

Songs Mentioned:

 

 _‘Bootylicious’_ by Destiny’s Child

 

 _‘The Key, The Secret’_ by Urban Cookie Collective

 

 _‘We Found Love’_ by Rihanna

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please review! To discover more of my writing, visit www.helenjuliet.com


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